


Count to 10

by alittlenutjob



Category: The Mindy Project
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 04:33:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlenutjob/pseuds/alittlenutjob
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my very first ever fic, so please be gentle. I own nothing and write this with the greatest respect for the original creators. This includes some canon, some speculation.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Count to 10

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first ever fic, so please be gentle. I own nothing and write this with the greatest respect for the original creators. This includes some canon, some speculation.

The sensation started in his fingers and toes. He'd known her all of a week and it felt like every time she entered a room she became a black hole for intellect, reason and calm. Now it's true that maybe he was a little more naturally angry than the next person. And residency is just harrowing anyway, so maybe, just maybe, he hadn't eaten or slept enough in the last couple of years. But genuinely every word out of her mouth made him cringe. She just didn't know when to shut the fuck up.

"So, Danny, aren't you a little old to be a resident? I'm exhausted all the time, so I bet you're barely conscious," she trilled in that unbelievably high pitched, overly nosy and above all irritatingly sunny manner that made his fists clench and even his toes. Count to 10, Castellano. Count to 10.

* * *

He actually couldn't pinpoint when he stopped being so irritated by her, but he could pinpoint when the tension moved decidedly north of his feet. Christina had been gone a while, and maybe he was a little lonely. He wasn't blind though, and it wasn't unthinkable that spending so much time with her had the unintended consequence of a little attraction. It could happen to anyone.

"Danny! You ate the last bag of popcorn!" she exclaimed as she plopped down beside him on the manky old sofa in the doctor's lounge.

"That was communal popcorn and I had as much a right to eat it as you did," he said.

"But you KNEW I had two procedures scheduled with a movie break this afternoon and who the hell watches movies without popcorn? I bought peanut butter M&Ms so they'd melt in the bowl and be all salty and sweet. It was my one treat today." Her hair was pinned up and she was wearing glasses instead of contacts and very little makeup. She looked tired, but had that glow she gets when she's just come from a successful surgery. Confident.

"How is eating a treat? It's just something you do so you don't die. You don't look like you're going to die," he asked, "Of popcorn deprivation I mean, " he added quickly.

"How very dare you?" her feathers clearly ruffled. He hadn't to imply anything about her, or her figure, but he could clearly see that he'd hit a sore spot and wished he could take it back. "I'm sorry, Mindy. I forgot we even talked about your movie thing. I was just hungry and popcorn sounded really good."

"You're right, it did sound good. Lucky for you, I brought extra snacks. Twizzlers it is."

"If you had a backup snack, why are we arguing about this?"

She chuckled. "Oh dear, sweet Danny. you were the backup entertainment. I was going to watch Green Card and eat popcorn, but winding you up is just as entertaining."

Her laugh was so much huskier than her speaking voice, so warm and intimate. He couldn't help but imagine briefly what else could bring that laugh, and suddenly he was more than a little aroused. He felt his pulse racing and warmth rushing to his face. "I am not the backup entertainment!" he snapped then stood quickly and sped out of the room before his predicament was too obvious. His pink ears could easily be from anger, he reasoned. She probably didn't even notice, she's just so self absorbed. Count to 10.

* * *

By the time the feeling moved to his stomach he felt it every day. He'd wake up, and think about his day, how he'd run into her, where he'd run into her and his stomach would flutter nervously. He'd sit at his desk and she'd barge through with some sort of nonsense, "I think we should order pink stethoscopes for everyone."

"We've talked about this, stethoscopes are medical equipment, not accessories. I am not wearing a pink stethoscope so you can match some shoes."

"But it would reassure the patients that we take women's health seriously!"

"Mindy, we're gynecologists. They know we take women's health seriously. End of discussion."

"Oh no you don't, this discussion is still happening. Besides, they're on the way," she shot over her shoulder as she walked out. "You'll look great, pink is your color."

"Pink isn't anyone's color," he called after her, then got up to follow.

These little moments of banter elicited more of that laughter he enjoyed so much, but it made him laugh too and for the first time since Christina he remembered what it was like to let his guard down a little. To share something small with someone, and get something in return. It was terrifying and exhilarating, and all day his stomach did flip flops.

"Did you just call me Min?"

"No."

"Okay, Dan." Flip flop. Count to 10.

* * *

Once it moved to his heart it was too late. Maybe he'd known how he felt for a while now, and maybe he'd known that once he acknowledged it, he could never come back from it. Maybe he'd carried this weight in his chest for months now, heavy when she went to Haiti, heavier still when he watched her walk down the aisle to marry someone else.

But as he held her close, warm and soft in his old Columbia sweatshirt, his hand sliding down her arm, her hair tickling his cheek, his heart burst open.

"Are you in a relationship with each other or not?"

She slipped right into his arms, tucked perfectly under his chin.

"Of course, yes. We are..this is...this is what...yes," he finished in a quiet voice.

His walls fell down and for a brief, beautiful couple of hours this ache that had built for so long was gone. And in his kitchen, the air warm and maple scented, she gave the ache right back to him, a heart full of feelings he couldn't burden her with because she wanted someone else.

* * *

The ache was a full body and mind experience now. His chest so tight when he began to dance for her, with a brief reprieve as he ended the dance with a smile and he reached out to cup her face. His breath short as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he could feel her breath on his neck.

Sick to his stomach as he watched her share a perfect first kiss with another.

His excruciating, mind-bending lust as he saw her beautiful body for the first time and couldn't have her, or even tell her how beautiful she really is without giving it all away.

His fists curled and jaw clenched tight as she berated him in the cold, dark desert.

"You know what, Danny? When I first met you I thought 'Wow, that guy is so handsome and smart, how could he be single? He's such a catch.' Then I got to know you better and I realized, you're mean. Yeah, you're mean and you are selfish."

* * *

Now they sit here, on a plane back to the city where it all began. He's completely full again, his nose full of the scent of her shampoo, his head full of things he wished he'd said, his chest tight with disappointment over the opportunities he missed a long time ago, his eyes perilously close to tears, and he knows that what he says and does next will destroy what they are now.  _You can do this_ , he thinks.  _You have literally nothing left to lose now._

Count to 10, Danny. Count to 10 and kiss this woman.

1,2,3,4.5.6

"Min?"

7.8.

"Yeah?"

9.10...


End file.
